Mr. Mellen dismissed the man, walked into the veranda and confronted his wife. He was pale as death, in the moonlight. His agitation made Elizabeth more sternly cold; she knew that look, she had borne it in his suspicious, jealous moments in the old time.
"Did you lose that bracelet, Elizabeth?" he asked.
"Did I not say so?" she retorted.
"I can't understand it," he went on; "these sudden frights and tremors, these mysterious losses——"
"The old suspicions," she broke in, goaded into defiance by the actual danger. "You promised me to have done with all those things, Grantley."
"Admit at least——"
"I will admit nothing. I will not talk to you when you speak in that tone. I am sorry the bracelet is gone, but I am not a child to be threatened."
Elsie heard it all, and when the dialogue reached that point she crept quietly upstairs, determined that at least she would be beyond even the sound of their difficulty.
For a few moments they retorted bitterly upon each other. Formerly it had been Elizabeth's resolution to bear in silence, but it is hard to be patient when one has a fatal wrong to conceal.
It was very unsatisfactory, but there the matter ended.